The Silence of Suffering
by DaenerysTargary3n
Summary: When Hermione turns up at Grimmauld Place battered and bruised, the occupants are stunned when they learn why. During the rest of the summer vacation, her 5th year and beyond, she requires help in becoming the Hermione Jean Granger that her friends and the Order know and love but who will save her from herself?
1. Caveat Oppugnator

**Author's Note**

Firstly, I do not own any part of the Harry Potter franchise, which does belong to JK Rowling and Warner Bros Studios. Secondly - as might be hinted at in the rating - this story will contain strong language, scenes of a sexual nature, rape, violence and other adult themes so if you as a reader are any of the aforementioned features, please do dip your toe into this story with caution and having been warned! I will say now that I suffer from social anxiety, dysthymia, mythomania and a plethora of physical conditions as well, so a lot of what I do write is taken straight from my own experiences and thought processes, though what I do not know I research as thoroughly as possible. This is my first Harry Potter story and I hope you like it and review it profusely.

Enough rabbiting from me now! I'll just get on with the story.

DaenerysTargary3n

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**Chapter One - Caveat Oppugnator**

Number 12 Grimmauld Place was alive. It was brimming with excitement and laughter and magic. Its occupants were clamouring around the large trestle table, grasping for elements of the sumptuous dinner that Molly Weasley had served up for their delectation. Usually, the adults were content to be chivalrous by allowing their younger companions to dive in first, however, having understood during the afternoon that Mrs Weasley was preparing her famous Garganelli with duck ragu, not a soul in the house - not even Snape - took the chance of missing out on this culinary extravaganza.

The entire Order of the Phoenix was present that night at the hidden house of the Black clan for their leader had ordained that the day be when they would prepare for the arrival of The Boy Who Lived later that summer. Molly, fully aware of Albus Dumbledore's love of Italian cuisine, decided that morning to spoil the occupants of the dreary house and cook up a veritable feast to celebrate the headmaster's visit (and hopefully a successful meeting).

What the avid diners did not allow time for as they piled their plates high with aromatic food was the Headmaster jumping up in the middle of the meal and rushing out of the dining room into the vestibule, his face ashen and his wand extended.

Molly did her best not to feel (and appear!) affronted, however, her guest of honour leaping to his feet - his plate still covered in pasta - and leaving the table made her downright cross. She looked round at her offspring, of whom the oldest and four youngest were present, who all gazed at her open-mouthed and were aware that were they to ever rise from the dinner table and disrespect one of their mum's meals without asking to be excused, their lives would come to a swift, painful and premature end.

The question that the rest of the Order were silently asking was answered in a matter of minutes as they heard the door bang closed and Dumbledore leave the property before he soon re-entered.

"Molly, Remus," he bellowed from the hallway, "could you assist me, please?"

The pair quickly went to the headmaster's aid and the others sat in confusion, now unwilling to continue with their supper. It was only when they heard a shrill and piercing female scream that they all knew did not originate from Molly that they rose and rushed to see what was happening. None of them expected the sight that greeted them on the other side of the door.

Albus, Remus and Molly were all kneeling on the hardwood floor crooning over a prostrate figure shrouded in black travelling robes. The bystanders only just managed to catch a glimpse of the stranger's tie beneath her wet cloak.

"Mum, that's not…is it?"

Molly looked up, displaying her face streaked with tears, "No, Ronald, it's not Harry but…"

Remus grasped her arm, "Molly, not now. She needs all your attention!"

"Remus is right," Albus pronounced as he rose, "the poor girl needs both of you to take care of her. You need to take her to St. Mungo's. I am sure the healers there will know how to help her. Her injuries were not magic-made and it looks like she will not be waking shortly. I fear I must forego your splendid meal, Molly, and return to Hogwarts to alert Minerva, for one of her students will need extra help next year, I fear."

After the Molly and Remus nodded and made ready to apparate to the magical hospital, the spectators had borne enough of the vexing vagueness that the three before them were maintaining, that Sirius lost his temper.

"Pardon the language, but for fuck's sake, you three! What is going on? It can't be so very secret if you're rushing off to inform Minerva, Albus, so just tell us; we're right here you know! Who is that?"

It was Remus who revealed his pale face, wet from tears like that of Molly's, and whispered to his friends, and Severus, that the form which was lying cold, wet, beaten and broken on the floor was that of Hermione Granger.

With that news relayed, all four of them disapparated. Molly and Remus gripped each other and their new charge and visualised the hospital reception, while Albus magicked himself to the Head of Gryffindor's study. Those who remained couldn't move for the shock that was streaming through their bodies and minds. None of them could believe that Hermione Granger had showed up unexpected at Grimmauld Place seemingly egregiously wounded. She was the young witch who was to be brought to the Order's headquarters in the coming days before Harry's arrival and she knew it was in Grimmauld Place but without Dumbledore's express input, she couldn't have pinpointed their location. As usual, the female third of the Golden Trio had surprised everyone, but this time it worried them.

"We were meant to fetch her on Monday." Arthur murmured.

"I only told her about this place this morning." Ron stuttered.

"They had to take her _straight _to St. Mungo's." Ginny whispered.

"She's been attacked by muggles." George mumbled.

"She's the most powerful witch of her age." Fred breathed.

"Oh, for heaven's sake!" Snape and Sirus snapped at the same time.

After a perplexed glance at each other, Snape drawled on, "Why must Weasleys be so cliche? Please desist from your incessant, needless talk. It's incredibly tiresome, furthermore it does nothing to help Miss Granger in her obvious plight."

"As much as I hate to say it: Snivellus is right. You lot just standing there mumbling obvious truths about Hermione is annoying and it frankly doesn't help anybody. No doubt she will be returning here once she has recovered and I don't believe she would appreciate residing in the hallway, so why don't you shift yourselves and move her affairs upstairs to the room on the 4th floor opposite Ron's where I think she'll feel most comfortable."

Arthur was the first to find his way out of his ruminating, "Sirius and Severus are right. Fred, can you be trusted to get her suitcase upstairs? George, you deal with her backpack. Ginny and Tonks, it is up to you to get the room to a standard where she might be satisfied with it. The rest of you just continue with dinner. I imagine it's what she would want."

"But dad-"

"Ron," Sirius interrupted him, "your father is right. Go back to the dinner table and finish your dinner. It will do you good to eat something while we wait to hear what has happened and how Hermione is. You can do nothing now, so best you, in particular , feel up to being with her when she comes back from St. Mungo's. It won't help her if you're too hungry or overextended."

"Fine, but bloody hell, Sirius, where do you get off ordering me about?"

"MISTER WEASLEY!" Snape shouted in his best professor's voice, which was known on occasion to make Longbottom lose control of his bladder, but had a lesser effect on the youngest Weasley boy.

"Sorry, Sirius," he apologised meekly, "I didn't mean that. You're right and I was a git to speak to you like that. I'm just worried about 'Mione. I've seen that girl take on a troll, a basilisk, dementors, a werewolf, the Whomping Willow and tons more. She managed to survive all those pretty much without a scratch, so seeing her like that from something muggles could do to her is hard. I just can't think what could have beaten her and that scares me a bit, though I hate to admit it, especially in front of Sna-Professor Snape."

Although the Potions Master's nose flared at his pupil's near rudeness, he kept quiet and replied, "Mr. Weasley, that will do. Just return to the dining room and finish your meal."

Once only adults were left standing in the hallway, Arthur Weasley asked, "What do you think could have done that to Hermione?"

Sirius shook his head, "My guess is that there is much we do not know about Miss Granger and her life outside school and magic. Albus did say that her injuries were not caused by magic after all. What do you know, Arthur? You are her best friend's father and she has spent more time with you and your family that with either of us."

"She's never said or done anything to make me think that there was anything to worry about. I know that she was lonely and didn't have many - if any - friends before the troll incident in hers, Ron's and Harry's first year, but that's quite normal when you think about how studious and frighteningly clever she is. As far as the muggle aspect of her attack goes, she's never shown any ill will or disdain for muggle items or people. She's always happy to explain muggle objects and behaviours to me when I ask her about them. What seems the most un-Hermione part of tonight is that she apparently ran, which is not in her nature. She is brave and everything a Gryffindor should be and yet she ran here without knowing where exactly she was running to and if she would be met by friends. She could have gone anywhere: Harry's, the Burrow, even Hogwarts or Hogsmeade but she found her way here alone. She wasn't going to friends or her teachers. She must have been looking for the Order."

"That's an astute observation," Snape concurred, "but as I told your obtuse son, we will not know what befell Miss Granger until she returns and regains consciousness, so there is little point in guessing. I will return to Hogwart's now and will see you both again at the next meeting, I presume, unless Miss Granger's condition requires my personal attention."

Without waiting another instant, the potions teacher disapparated and left two flabbergasted men in his wake.

"Stupid Snivellus always speaks like the pompous and arrogant know-it-all, doesn't he? Never ceases to amaze me, that man…"

"He is right, though," Arthur replied, "but I worry. She's like my daughter that girl as Harry is like my son and those three go through so much every single year and I worry that one day one - or more - of them isn't going to make it home after the school year winds up."

"What with Harry being an orphan, The Boy Who Lived, Voldemort's constant target and now being put on trial for misuse of magic, we never get round to thinking about her. I mean, you and Molly think about Ron, obviously because he's your son, but I wonder if we've all done Hermione a great disservice by assuming she's alright and that her life at home is pleasant because she has parents and killing her isn't the endgame for a sadistic, evil, megalomaniac wizard."

"She never said her home life was anything other than happy though, Sirius. How were we meant to know?"

"We didn't ask enough questions and my guess is that Harry and Ron - from how shocked Ron was - never have either. Think about it, Arthur, she's always there for them. I know from when she and Harry rescued me two years ago. She's also so clever that I have no doubt that if she has something to hide she would succeed with panache and that would be the end of it."

Arthur sighed, unable to contemplate the last explanation being true of someone as noble and honourable as Hermione, "I really hope that's not true…for her sake as much as ours and Ron's and Harry's."

"I hope it's not true for whoever did this to her's sake," Sirius growled, in that moment more Padfoot and hound than Sirius and man, "because she helped rescue me from a fate worse than death and I will be damned once more if whatever scum is responsible for her showing up here unable to hold herself up is not held accountable for their actions. I have half a mind to go to Hogwarts and demand that Albus make me her magical guardian as her parents - if they didn't do this to her - didn't protect her so even though I'm a scumbag who is still 'technically' on the run, I could do for her as I do for Harry. Then, she'd have _family _in this place who wouldn't let her fall through the cracks. No offence, Arthur."

After witnessing Sirius melt into a raging furnace in defence and protection of Hermione, Arthur was moved enough to forgive the marauder with his sheepish grin that came at the end once he'd realised that his last statement could have been offensive to the red-headed man taking in his rant. Sirius' idea of magically adopting Hermione also appealed to him.

"You should talk to Albus about that. It's a good idea…but owl him or send a letter with your elf, don't go yourself. It's not safe enough for you to go out just yet, my friend."

With that advice taken onboard, Black just spun away from his companion and bounded up the stairs in dog form to his bedroom where his writing desk lay in wait for the scurrilous writing of the most serious letter the fugitive would ever compose atop it. For the girl who rescued him from the Dementor's Kiss, he would do anything.


	2. Dolor Lupinum Matrisque

**Author's Note**

Thank you so much everybody for the rave reviews and favourites and follows. My email inbox is literally full of the notifications and it's so nice to have my writing appreciated and this story read. By the way, all the chapter titles will be in Latin translated or adapted by yours truly as I am a Classical & Theological Studies student (studying Classics where JK Rowling herself did!). It also fits the world of the franchise quite nicely. Please continue reading because I have great plans for this story!

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**Chapter Two - Dolor Lupinum Matrisque**

Molly arrived at the hospital in such a flurry when she and Remus Lupin couriered Hermione to the atrium of the prodigious (and well-used) St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. Although the bedraggled young teenager's wounds were not magically inflicted, the witch and wizard escorting her had no idea how to get to the nearest muggle hospital and how to explain why they could just appear out of nowhere directly in the reception.

"Please, help!" Remus bellowed with a tinge of his inner werewolf growling through.

Upon arrival, the pair of conscious figures struggled to maintain their grip on Hermione as she plummeted to the floor after the apparition pitched her forward. Only when Remus called for help did the trio attract all the nearby healers like a magnet. The flourish of medics extracted the obvious patient from her companions and whisked her away before Remus or Molly could utter a single syllable.

As they realised what had happened, a junior healer approached them with some parchment and a quill and asked timidly, "Are you related to that young lady?"

Remus came to first, "Erm…no. I am a former professor and friend. My friend here is the mother of Miss Granger's best friend. She is muggle-born, you see, so her parents are out of question."

"That's fine. We get that a lot. If you just put yourselves down as guardians in the paperwork, that will suffice. Also, if there are any sections to which you do not know the answer, please just leave them blank as Miss Granger might know the relevant information."

While the healer spoke, a minute shred of parchment flew towards her and she seemingly unabashed by the memo poking her on the shoulder until she opened it, skimmed the writing.

"I'm sorry," she murmured cautiously, "but you both will need to go to the Head Healer's office to fill in the forms. I'll take you up there and someone more senior will be along to discuss Miss Granger's condition with you presently."

"That's fine, my dear," Molly intoned in her typical motherly voice, "we're more than happy to wait for however long is necessary. We would like to know that Hermione is going to be alright and we don't much mind where we do our waiting."

On the brief walk to the lift and up to the ninth floor where the Head Healer had her work and living quarters, Viola d'Almande pondered how amiable the middle-aged witch and wizard following behind her were. The note she had received from the emergency team instructed her to ensure that the people who brought in Miss Granger were not permitted to leave the building. Viola knew from the short time she had been working at St. Mungo's that that meant that either some kind of abuse was suspected or that tough decisions would have to be taken. Either way, it did not bode well for the young witch or her friends.

Molly and Remus were shocked at how difficult they found some of the questions in the patient history paperwork. The Weasley matriarch prided herself on treating her youngest boy's closest friends like her own flesh and blood but while she read the questions and was certain she knew what the answers should be were it Harry fighting for his life, she was nearly distraught that for Hermione she could not fill the form out. Remus was just as baffled, but he had the lucky break of never claiming her as 'like a daughter to him'.

"I mean, look at all this, Remus," Molly sighed, "they need to know her address, her blood type, her complete medical history and that's only the first roll! I can't believe this! We've known her since she was eleven and I couldn't even tell you where she lives when she's not with us or at Hogwarts! I have always said she's like a daughter to me, but I really have no right to claim that at all."

The lycanthrope didn't know what to make of Mrs Weasley's sudden collapse into tears and waves of self-deprecation. Since Lily his closest friend and female confidante had passed away, he had not experienced female emotional upheavals in such close quarters. Thus, his reaction was merely to pat the weeping woman on the back. Needless to say, it was not all that effective in soothing her.

Just as the Weasley woman managed to calm herself, two healers walked into the office and Remus noticed as their eyes narrowed in on them. It made him uneasy and fearful of his favourite young witch's condition.

"Are you both here for Miss Granger?" The older man asked formally.

"We are."

"Forgive me," the young wizard apologised, "my name is Healer Compton and my colleague and the Head Healer of the hospital here next to me is Healer Catsgore."

Molly sniffled, "Why did you want to see us particularly? This feels like an awful lot of attention for one girl."

The Head Healer harrumphed and reminded Remus in that moment of Professor Binns with his schoolmasterly manner and supercilious presence in the room, "Well, madam, the young lady has multiple knife wounds to the torso which were created without magic. Those we have managed to heal without complications. We found three haematomas: the two around her lower back will heal over the next day or so with the charms we have placed on them, but the larger one and the more worrisome is that bleeding into her chest cavity of which healers are still trying to gain control."

The senior official took a deep breath and rubbed his eyes and forehead. In that moment, his commanding presence and vexing voice fell away, leaving only the shadow of an elderly human man coming to the end of a lengthy and wearisome shift. He grumbled to his colleague, "Compton, why don't you take over and relate the rest of Miss Granger's injuries? It will do your education good. I will supervise from over there."

"Yes, sir," Compton acquiesced before assuming the mantle of the unfazed and confident healer to itemise the rest of Hermione's medical problems, "you've said there were three sites of major internal bleeding which were caused by four broken ribs, a fractured collarbone and she also has twisted her left ankle."

Mrs Weasley and Remus' eyes began to widen when the Head Healer commenced his list of Hermione's injuries, but as the second healer continued the brutally explicit catalogue, their eyes felt like they would fall clean from their skulls. As they were told of the bruises painting her young body and that she was lucky she was a witch, for had she been a muggle, the healers were certain she would have lost the use of her right eye, the pair of adults winced as they felt every blow that resulted in Hermione's maiming.

Healer Catsgore stood up from his place by the grate and approached the trio when he understood that his subordinate was nearing the particularly gruelling part of the prognosis. He interrupted kindly, "Thank you, Healer Compton, that was well put. I will broach the next stage of this discussion with," he looked down at the paperwork, "Mrs Weasley and Mr. Lupin. You may go back down to the ward and assist the others with Miss Granger's care."

The young man nodded at his superior and attempted to smile kindly at the friends of his unfortunate patient before he swept out of the room in a flurry of white robes.

"Right," Catsgore huffed, "I must say now that although Miss Granger's injuries are serious and I expect her to have to remain here under our care for at least a week - if not longer - they are not the reason why we healers are legally obligated to keep you here for further questioning. If a patient is admitted and there are signs of sexual abuse, we are required by law to investigate further."

Remus choked back a gasp, "And…there are signs of…that?"

Healer Catsgore merely nodded brusquely before continuing, "There are copious signs, Mr. Lupin. We found and managed to stop the vaginal bleeding, we have extracted samples of the attacker's bodily fluid, Miss Granger's pubic hair and her robes have been wrapped as evidence. What we have to deal with now…"

"Sorry," Remus interjected rather more loudly than he intended as he struggled to maintain control of himself, "before we proceed, would you mind giving us a moment to process this? What you have just told us is that someone we hold very dear was raped and I'm sure I speak for both of us when I say that we would appreciate a minute or two to fully grasp the situation at hand."

"Naturally," the healer murmured, "my apologies."

Neither Molly nor Remus uttered a word for almost ten minutes. All either could think about was what the poor girl had endured without so much as a soul to help her. It was Molly who first managed to utter a word to the perplexed but stoic healer seated before them.

"But, it was done by muggles? We were told none of her injuries were magically inflicted. Why couldn't she defend herself?"

"Well, she is under seventeen and as such, The Trace is still active. She may not have used magic for that reason or she may not have been able to reach her wand. In short, we do not know how the perpetrators managed to attack her so savagely. We can only wait until she regains consciousness, which I anticipate will occur in about twelve hours' time, for her to regale us of the attack. When she does come to, I insist that a healer from the psychiatric ward is present. I can also see that a lot of this form is incomplete and that you have not listed yourself as her parents or guardians. So, may I enquire how you came upon Miss Granger and how you are acquainted with her?"

Remus answered, "I am a former professor of hers and Molly is her best friend's mother. We live in London and she just appeared outside our house. We don't know how she managed it and we were stunned she couldn't even hold herself up and we brought her straight here. We did not wish to provide erroneous information concerning her medical background but until Hermione wakes up, there is no way for us to find out the missing details - her parents are muggles, you see. Regrettably, neither myself nor Molly know much about her outside of school and her magical life. We never imagined a situation would arise when we would need to…"

"Completely understandable."

Molly whimpered, "Can we see her? I know you said already that she'll still be unconscious but we need to go and update the rest of our family so we'd like to see her before we go back home."

"Yes you can, Mrs Weasley," Healer Catsgore said, rising and gesturing for the witch and wizard in his company to follow him out of his office, "but please allow her to rest and at this time, I ask that you not touch her. There are powerful healing charms still at work within her. She should be stable enough when you return, but please do ask at the desk before you go in. She is no longer in our emergency wing, but you will find her on the third floor where we have our children's ward in room 315."

"She's in a private room?"

"Yes, as a rule, if a patient has experienced any sexual trauma we isolate them from the other patients. Generally, it makes for quieter wards and faster recoveries for our patients."

Remus nodded, "Very sensible. Thank you for your help. We'll leave you to get back to work."

Once the trio had parted ways and Molly and Remus were alone in the lift as it descended to the third floor, both sought comfort in each other's embrace. There was nothing remotely romantic about it and that was the wondrous thing about Remus Lupin. The werewolf was the backbone of the Order. There was not a soul among them (except maybe Severus Snape) who hadn't gone to Lupin at some point for counsel and comfort at some point and he treated them all with the same amount of respect and circumspect. It was what made him the obvious choice to take Molly and Hermione to St. Mungo's.

As they alighted from the elevator, Remus the Approachable sighed to his companion, "We need to brace ourselves for this, knowing what we know now. We'll just check on her and then we'll go back to HQ to apprise the others of the situation. We _have _to be back here before she wakes up and it's already been a long day so I would like to get some sleep before tomorrow has to be tackled."

"Very well, Remus, whatever you say."

Once the pair reached the door to Hermione's room, they looked at each other, took a deep breath and Remus twisted the door handle. The unconscious figure of Hermione Granger as she lay placid on the bed was glowing a faint hue of purple as the potions and spells swept through her broken body healing as they went. Had her condition not been so grave, Molly might have described her fluorescent appearance as somewhat beautiful. As it was, the discoloration of her bruises and the noticeable ridges from her broken bones made her recumbent form a tear-jerking sight for the adults.

"We must go, Molly," Remus whispered, not that shouting would have woken the catatonic witch, "she will be well looked after here. We need to tell the others while we still have the strength to do so."

"It's too sad, Remus, it's too sad…"

"I know but it must be done. For Hermione's sake." He replied morosely.


	3. In Loco Parentis

**Author's Note**

In the light of some reviews and private messages, I feel that I ought to issue a caveat of my own. I have already - and explicitly - detailed that this story will include sensitive material but what may have slipped your notice is that I have listed the characters involved as Hermione and Sirius as a _pairing_ so if that notion disgusts you or instigates you to write vexing reviews that just slate the idea, please just don't read the story, it's that simple. To those who venture beyond this point and have enjoyed the story so far, do continue and I sincerely hope you continue to take pleasure from my writing.

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**Chapter Three - In Loco Parentis**

It was late by the time the wearied pair apparated in front of Number Twelve. Not wishing to rouse the house, they both bade each other goodnight and proceeded to their respective bedrooms to grab at least a couple of hours of sleep before they had to stir to relate Hermione's medical condition to their friends and family. Fortunately for Molly, her husband had already succumbed and so she was thankfully permitted to rest.

As Remus meandered through the townhouse up to the top floor where both the marauders slept, it seemed as though the entire household slept but when a crack echoed with a din through the stairwell, he knew he had forgotten about one miniscule member of the Black dynasty.

"Kreacher," Remus whispered to the elf, "what are you doing apparating at this time?"

The austere house elf visibly and unashamedly rolled his lip up at the werewolf whom he considered subhuman, "Master ordered Kreacher to take his letter to the Headmaster of Hogwarts just after the Mudblood girl arrived and went. Kreacher is to take his reply in to the Master…such a disappointment to his mother, his dear mother."

"Very well. Goodnight then, Kreacher."

Without stopping to take notice of whatever slights and slurs the mean-spirited elf mumbled as he entered his room, he slithered into his bedroom and without bothering to replace his clothes, the tired former professor fell onto his bed. He would deal with tomorrow after a few hours of sleep and not before.

The other marauder was unable to so easily find the serenity of slumber. Sirius was plagued by his godson's best friend's health, for he had sent Dumbledore a missive detailing his intentions to take on Hermione as his magical ward but was still awaiting a response from the old man. He was surprised that already caring for the young witch came so easily to his prison-hardened self.

"Master…Kreacher has the Headmaster's reply."

Like his close friend, Sirius swept the parchment from the elf's grip and ignored his presence in his chambers before waving him back to his cubby. As he skimmed Albus' letter, a grin plastered itself over his visage, for he learnt that once Miss Granger returned from her sojourn in St. Mungo's, Albus would be happy to perform the necessary spells to render her parents' guardianship of her inert and bind the pair of them as kinsmen.

"Well," the middle-aged wizard huffed to no one in particular, "it seems as though I shall soon have a daughter, a daughter who will need a great deal of care, which I am happy to give."

And so, with that news brought to the last son of Black, the household of Number Twelve felt able - if not comfortable - going to sleep for a while. The struggles of the dawn would wait for the wearied ones within the dark building to rally and repose before going into battle with what the already present Sunday could muster.

Upon waking, each member of the household descended to the spacious dining room and awaited the arrival of Molly and Remus, who woke last.

"Now," Remus began, holding back a yawn, "before I start filling you all in properly on what has happened to Hermione, please try not to interrupt. It was an arduous experience at St. Mungo's yesterday and although I volunteered to be the one to bring you all up to speed, my patience with this situation only goes so far."

"Yes, yes, yes, Remus! Just get on with it!" Sirius interjected, warranting a grimace from his oldest friend and evoking a memory of his words in the Shrieking Shack two years ago.

"Alright, alright…"

"Actually," Sirius said apologetically, "can I just make an announcement before you commence your tale? Anyway, after discussing it with Arthur and Severus, I wrote to Albus last night with a request and I am honoured to say that having received his permission and blessing, I will be assuming the guardianship of Hermione. Well, there! I've said it!"

After a few minutes of congratulatory remarks from everyone round the table, Sirius waved everyone down and gestured for Moony to begin relating his adopted daughter's condition in the hospital.

"Firstly, I am not going to go into all the details we were given by the Head Healer but I will give you the important facts and the overall picture. It is as yet unclear, as Hermione did not wake up at the hospital and she will not have regained consciousness yet today, just how she sustained her wounds or how she managed to make it here in the state she was in, but the healers confirmed what we knew that none of her injuries were caused by magic. She suffered from multiple stab wounds, a twisted ankle, internal bleeding and several broken bones."

"My God!" Sirius breathed, his eyes already watering as he felt each blow and injury Remus described, even though he was doing so pretty vaguely.

"Why do I get the feeling that that's not it?" Ron asked warily.

With a brief rub of his wrinkled forehead, Remus carried on, "Because it isn't, Ronald. As I said, we spoke with the Head Healer and that was because - as is their legal obligation - when a patient is brought in with suspected or confirmed _sexual_," Remus' voice abhorred saying that word in the context, "abuse, the Head Healer is required to interview anyone concerned."

"Sexual abuse?! No, no, no!" Ron garbled, his brain attempting fruitlessly to wrap itself around the painful news.

"Oh, Ron," Molly whispered, "I'm so sorry, but the healers said with all the signs that were present, it was certain there was a sexual aspect to her attack."

As they had insisted the healers give them a moment of respite, so did the two in the know do for their companions. Molly and Remus observed as their friends and family struggled to process the fact that some muggle had violated a dear friend and sweet girl. Alastor, Arthur, Bill, Fred and George all managed to maintain their dour and dolorous countenance, but the rest of the party had more difficulty. Tonks, Ginny, Ron and Fleur all managed to burst into convulsions of crying simultaneously and with equal vigour with the straight-faced men gathering one apiece in their arms. Sirius, on the other hand, was starting to scare his friends. There was wave-upon-wave of deep magic rolling off the man. It occurred to Remus that with his detention in Azkaban, Sirius' magic had been bottled up for many years and should he lose control, the force of his ancient, pureblood magic would be immense and potentially disastrous.

"Sirius," Remus murmured soothingly, "calm down and hand me your wand. There is no point in you releasing your hold on your magic, so take a deep breath and go into the attic and cast some _harmless _spells on Kreacher."

Nobody was especially happy with Lupin's advice for Sirius to go to antagonise and victimise his house elf, but no one had the gall (or a better idea!) to dissent. It was a far preferable eventuality for Sirius to exert the Black family magic over a house elf with very little consequences than for him to remain in the dining room with the rest of the Order and their children and blow them all to Kingdom come!

"When can she come home…I mean here?" Ginny asked timidly.

"She's still got a lot of recuperating to do physically and she should wake up later today so Molly, Sirius and I will be returning to St. Mungo's. It all depends on what she says and does while awake, I'm afraid. Her mental and emotional trauma will take much longer to abate than what physical injuries she has sustained. The psychiatric department there are going to assess her when she regains consciousness, then we'll have a better idea, Ginny."

Everyone drank in Remus' words just like they did when he was a teacher of Defence Against the Dark Arts. It was just the kind of person he was that people believed and understood what he said with little or no difficulty. Even when his words were punctuated with the occasional boom and exclamation from Kreacher reacting to Sirius' ministrations upstairs, everyone's attention was rapt and unwavering from Lupin's authority.

"Do they - or you - know who you did it?" Ron asked quietly.

"I'm afraid not. It's a matter of waiting for Hermione to reveal her attacker's identity."

Just before Ron shot off into a fit of rage and anger and sadness, Arthur wrapped his arms tighter around his youngest boy to pacify his red nature, that followed his hair colour, to be passionately vehement about the lack of information available to them before his bosom friend woke up. Ever since his third year and the incident where Snuffles mangled his leg, the Weasley boy had been getting angry faster and been throwing mini tantrums at more frequent intervals. He had always been prone to fits of rage, but Molly and Arthur couldn't help but feel that since Harry and Hermione had rescued Sirius and Buckbeak as a duo, the other third of the Golden Trio had developed something of an inferiority complex, which was only exacerbated after last year's Triwizard Tournament series of fiascoes. Needless to say it worried his parents a good deal…

The room was silent until Sirius spoke up, "We need to bring Harry here earlier. Go and get him on Tuesday, Alastor, instead of late next week. His trial is next Monday so he can have the rest of the time to get acclimatised here and if Hermione is back, he'll want to be with her. She'll need him and Ron to help her more than the rest of us. Besides, seeing as Harry and Hermione will be siblings in all but name, it would do the three of us good to be a family together when she comes home."

"We'll have to talk to Albus first," Moody coughed in his usual manner, "when we fetch Harry is not officially your decision, Sirius. He'll probably agree but always best to ask your superiors before acting out of hand."

"I already asked him when I sent for the deed of magical guardianship. He agreed that it would be a good idea for Harry to come here ahead of his trial and spend time with Hermione and me. So that's settled then."

"Who's going to go?"

A show of hands speared the air above everyone's heads but Sirius laughed and waved everyone down, "I know everyone wants to be part of the Advance Guard but you can't all go and there's no need for you all to go, despite what Alastor thinks!"

Everyone glared pointedly at the former auror who had elucidated his misgivings about almost every aspect of the retrieval to everyone's discontent. It was as though the one-eyed man was expecting Death Eaters to be around every single corner (without exception) and in full force too. It was too much for everyone but Tonks, who was used to his quirks and just laughed at his rampant paranoia.

"Constant vigilance!"

Molly huffed, "We know, Alastor! So, who _is _going to Surrey?"

Remus took control of the meeting which was swiftly spiralling out of hand, "Well, we don't need a large party so I think only six should go. Alastor and I will go. Since Alastor is going I doubt we'll be able to keep Tonks back. Kingsley will have to be taken off the Prime Minister's watch for one night. That just leaves three."

"Harry's met Dedalus before, hasn't he? Didn't Hagrid say they did in Diagon Alley? If so, he should go with you. He's been owling for assignments and ways to help."

"Fine, Arthur. Who else? Maybe Hestia and Emmeline would serve. We don't need anymore senior Order members out."

"Agreed," Alastor and Sirius chorused.

Just as they settled on the Advance Guard, who would escort The Boy Who Lived safely to his godfather's house, a tawny owl tapped its talon on the greying window of the kitchen. Molly was closest and the one whom most owls did not peck to death, so she rose to admit the hooting bird and read the post it was bearing.

Mrs Weasley skimmed it swiftly, then with a weary sigh, she turned to her companions and stated simply, "Hermione's awake."


	4. De Pilo Pendet

**Author's Note**

Thank you all so much for continuing to review and favourite and follow _The Silence of Suffering_ despite my small vacation from it. It means ever so much to me that you are that interested in this story. I have planned it in more detail now so I will not be relying on the inspiration of the moment when they come infrequently - that's not fair of me! I have now (more or less) decided that this story will have twenty chapters and changed the rating to better suit where this story is heading. I hope you enjoy it all the more accordingly!

* * *

**Chapter Four - De Pilo Pendet**

"Where are we?"

Nobody replied to the teenage boy blissfully unaware of where in London he was standing. Moody only presented him with a small chit of parchment that read: _Number 12 Grimmauld Place...Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix. APWB Dumbledore._

"The Order of the Phoenix...what the heck is that?" Harry asked, vexed by the group surrounding him who had professed to being his guards not divulging where they had flown him to.

"Language, Harry." Remus chided gently.

The Boy Who Lived only just caught his name off the tongue of the werewolf, for something quite unexpected was happening before him.

The early Victorian townhouses, Numbers 11 and 13 in Grimmauld Place, seemed to shudder and sway as if a gale-force wind was trying to separate them. Harry thought initially that there must be an earthquake in the capital, but he knew from his early geography lessons how rare that likelihood was. The area appeared distinctly Muggle and the souls within the two shuddering properties showed no sign of being aware of what he and his companions were seeing. Magic, then, the young wizard deduced.

Harry expected to see an expanse of nothing form between the parting walls in the terrace but to his amazement, dark bricks began to join them, then came windows, a fence rail and an ornate black front door, and a path down to the pavement with lilies in the flowerbeds.

Once the completely hidden house had emerged from the sides of its neighbours, Harry's emerald eyes met with the brass-plated numbers screwed onto the front door.

"What's so special," Harry said, turning to Moody, "besides the completely obvious about 12 Grimmauld Place? And what is the Order of the Phoenix?"

Alastor replied tersely, "Just go in Harry and all will be revealed."

The young lad was hesitant but upon seeing Remus nod at him, assuring him he was safe, he opened the gate with a screech and approached the porch. When he opened the unlocked door, he saw a dismal and dreary vestibule stretching out in front of him leading to what seemed to be a dining room (judging by the dining table).

However, the furniture was not what made Harry's breath hitch or his legs buckle or his eyes gloss over with tears. The man sitting at the table with his face visible through the open kitchen door and to the young man standing at the opposite end of the hall had been sorely missed and an unexpected but moving surprise.

"Harry." He said with a proud smile.

"Sirius."

Unfortunately for the reunited guardian and godson, Molly Weasley's motherly form blocked the threshold while she closed the door behind her.

"Harry love," she cooed like a true mother hen, "so glad to see you, so glad! You must be exhausted."

"Mrs Weasley, was that?" Harry stuttered, interrupting the woman.

"Yes, yes, yes, not to worry about that - _him_ - now, my dear. He'll still be here in the morning. Right now, it's late and Ron, Ginny and the others are waiting for you upstairs, so go on up and catch up, then get some rest. Tomorrow is going to be a long day as it is."

Harry was about to resume his argument to be allowed to see Sirius, who obviously wished to see him in closer and more private quarters, when Remus shook his head and ushered him upstairs.

"Third door on the left, second floor," he said simply, "and sleep well, Harry."

Unable to understand since when his parents' other best friend had developed such intuition regarding his thoughts and wants, Harry ascended the rickety staircase, dragging his feet. He had half expected his godfather to disregard Mrs Weasley's instructions and storm through the door to see him anyway, but obviously he would have to deal with that disappointment along with the multitude of others he was currently considering.

When he reached the room to where he had been directed, he was met with the smiling and relieved faces of the two youngest Weasley siblings.

"Harry!" They chorused.

"Hi."

"It's so good to see you, mate." Ron said, clouting him amicably hard on the back.

Ginny gushed a bit more and flung herself into his unready embrace, "Oh, we were so worried about you, Harry. A Dementor attack? It's unheard of! The Ministry have to do something about it and they can't suspend or expel you. Professor Dumbledore was here this morning and he is working so hard for your trial, Harry. You'll have to be allowed to return to school in September, Harry."

"Will you just shut up?" Harry bellowed.

Ginny looked as though she was about to shed big crocodile tears and Ron just gaped back at his best friend aghast and mouth agape.

"I have been writing to you guys and waiting, and waiting, and _waiting _for news, a letter, fucking anything! I have been alone all summer just with the Dursleys and none of you gave a crap! Then, suddenly a couple of Dementors swan down to Little Whinging and suddenly, I'm being bloody done for misuse of magic. Then, I get whisked off to God knows where just randomly and Sirius is here too but your mum won't let me near him and he doesn't seem too bothered about me…"

"Harry, stop!" Ron shouted with equal intensity and volume.

"Why should I?"

"Because we wanted to write to you, we've wanted to write to you for ages and we had so many fights with members of the Order trying to get them to _let _us write!"

"It's not our fault." Ginny whimpered, following on from her brother.

Potter tried to simmer down and cool his temper but he was still too incensed to grasp Ron and Ginny's words. Only when the Weasley twins flashed down into the room, having apparently mastered the art of apparition, did some form of shock jolt Harry out of his red vision (and not just the Weasley hair!).

"Hey, it's Harry." George said.

"Couldn't help but hear your dulcet tones…" Fred continued.

"You really should keep it down, you know, don't want everyone hearing your business after all. Not when the Prophet depends on its scoop on 'What's New with Harry Potter - the Boy Who Lied.'"

Harry's face blanched and he whispered, "What? The Boy Who Lied?"

"Yeah," George responded eagerly, "it's what they're calling you in the Prophet. No worries though, Potter, they're discrediting Dumbledore too. All of us, actually. It's Fudge's new plan to keep You-Know-Who's return out of public knowledge."

"Ass!" Harry exclaimed.

"Tell us about it! The Order is trying to manage it, got spies everywhere and the like but it's getting difficult with mum, dad and others being watched. We want to help but dad says not while we're at school. Soon, they'll need us though."

"Okay," Harry interrupted, not wishing the twins to commence another unending story between the two of them, "what is this Order? Everyone keeps talking about it but I have no idea what it is and no one will tell me."

"The Order of the Phoenix," Ron explained with unusual loquacity, "is an organisation that Dumbledore started back when You-Know-Who first came to power. They fought him and recruited allies and stuff like that. Anyway, last time loads of them got killed off or were wounded really badly. We haven't lost anyone yet but from what mum, Sirius and Tonks have said, it sounds like this time round is going to be just as bad if not worse."

"So," Harry began, trying to understand what he had been dragged into, "this is their headquarters? Wherever this is…"

Fred took over the narrative, "Yeah, this house belongs to Sirius. It's the old Black house and it hasn't been used since his parents died, so he offered it to Dumbledore. We moved here at the beginning of Summer. The Burrow isn't safe anymore. Easier to keep everyone together and safe under one roof than have us all spread out."

"Still, if you were all here, all the owls I sent to you must have come here. Why weren't you allowed to answer me?"

Ron sighed, "Dumbledore. He said none of us could tell you what was going on or you'd be in more danger or something. We didn't like it, Harry, like I said we tried to get them to let us send you one at least, but they weren't having any of it. Then, Hermione arrived and they decided to go fetch you early."

"Wait," Harry interjected, "'Mione's here?"

Ginny nodded but Ron shook his head.

"Well, which is it? She's either here or she's not! Or is it just that she's too ashamed of herself to face me after not writing back to me?"

Before any of the Weasley offspring could disabuse Harry of that idea, they were alerted to another presence in what would be Harry and Ron's room in Number 12. This presence did not announce itself gently or quietly, but instead with a loud crack followed by a scream.

"Holy crap!" Harry shrieked upon feeling the sting of an open palm leaving his cheek.

"EVERYONE OUT!"

Fred and George gripped the arms of their younger siblings tightly and apparated with them up to their room without a word.

Looking up at his aggressor, Harry was shocked to see the man standing beside him with fiery, fierce eyes and throbbing temples.

"Sirius, what did you hit me for?" Harry nigh-on whimpered.

"Sit down."

Sirius was not a man to whom words came naturally or easily or in great number, but his violence and its cause towards Harry rendered him more tight-lipped than he ever had been. He had overheard Harry's initial indignation at being virtually stranded with his abominable Muggle relatives all summer but he only reached his bedroom door when he heard Harry speak of Hermione. The rage and sadness and fear Sirius had experienced since she had woken up three days ago was taking its toll.

"Will you please tell me what's going on? You hit me…" Harry said timidly, unable to piece together the fragments of the puzzle before him.

Sirius sighed as he sat down next to his godson, "I'm truly sorry about that, Harry. I did it out of anger and I hope you will forgive me once you learn what I have to tell you. Believe me, I don't want to tell you this and I hoped there would be more good news to tell by the time you arrived but there has been little improvement, so the news is still grim."

"I forgive you, Sirius," Harry claimed readily, now just anxious for the grave news that Sirius was reticent about relating and already forgetting the welt that would be forming on his cheek and the sting as it ebbed away, "but please - because you're making me nervous, now - just tell me what's happened."

"It's about Hermione. She's been hurt...badly, m'boy."

The girl's best friend felt his insides turn to mush and his heart plummet into his intestines as he was unable to imagine how Hermione could possibly find herself badly wounded over the summer. The only perilous and almost-fatal events in their lives befell them during their time at Hogwarts. During the vacations, she was generally among Muggles...wasn't she?

"How? How badly? Is she alright? Where is she? Is she here? Can I see her? Was it because of me?"

At Harry's onslaught of quick-fire questions, his legal and magical guardian could not help but smile. Here, this young boy who had faced more than his fair share of trauma and come out the other side was asking all the same questions he had and with the same face. They could have been blood-relatives in that moment, the former inmate thought.

Sirius grabbed Harry's arms, holding him steady so he could answer him, "First of all, it was most definitely _not _because of you. Considering the past few years, I can see how that might occur to you, Harry, but magic and our world has nothing to do with Hermione's current condition. Secondly, she is not here, she's in St. Mungo's and will be for a while even though she woke up on Sunday. I will take you and maybe Ron to see her tomorrow - I've seen her twice - but she is still recovering from her injuries and she is being kept in a magically enforced chamber because she is not well or stable emotionally too and her magic is reacting dangerously to that."

"How? How can her magic do that when it's her body that's been attacked?" Harry asked, not knowing how Sirius was struggling to phrase the pressing explanation.

"That's the thing, Harry," he said deliberately, "it's not just her body that has been assaulted. Her mind and soul have been too."

"But you said magic had no part in it."

"It didn't," Sirius retorted, feeling the strain of the situation into which he had been forced, "but that does not mean that her spirits and powers have been left unscathed."

"I still don't understand."

"She was beaten to within an inch of her life," Sirius stated blankly, "and...she was raped."

"But, but, she was at home, wasn't she? She wasn't here or with Ron when, when...it happened. So, how could it happen?"

Sirius shook his head looking down at the old oak floor, "She is not yet ready to talk about what happened. I'm hoping with you and Ron there tomorrow, she'll open up a bit more. It would be good for her. All we know for sure, Harry, is that she was near death when she managed to get here. Albus found her and then Molly and Remus took her to St. Mungo's."

Harry winced and growled at the name of his Headmaster, but was more concerned for the girl who had been as a sister to him since he was eleven years old, "So, will she recover?"

"We are still hoping so," Sirius said, the glint of a smile turning up the corners of his lips, "but there is something else you should know."

"What is it? It can't possibly be worse than that…"

He laughed, "It's not, or at least, I hope you _think _it's not! Albus and I decided that, in the light of Hermione's attack and what with her being a Muggle-born witch and being involved in your life so much, I'm going to be made her magical guardian. So, legally in the Wizarding World and to every witch and wizard and other magical creatures, she is now your sister and family. There is a magical contract and a spell involved, which Albus will be performing soon, but I already see her as my daughter, Harry, and I know she is like a sister to you. Her parents are therefore no longer her guardians as she has accepted her magic and I am sure they have something to do with what has been inflicted upon her."

"So I have a family now?" Harry choked out.

Sirius guffawed and embraced his godson happily, "Yes, Harry, that is what I very much hope...that you, me and Hermione will be - can be - a true family."

"Does she know?"

The guardian of two shook his head, "No, she is not yet strong enough and there's no telling how her magic might spike when she is told. I have no desire to offer myself up as her adoptive father just to have her accidentally release her magic upon me and void that proposal."

"So she's really that unstable and dangerous?"

He groaned, "Harry, her fate is hanging by a thread. She could either regain control of the power coursing out from her body and become the Hermione we know and love again, or - if worse comes to worst - she could lose control of the magic and it will consume her and any near her. If it is any consolation, I believe that she is anxious to see you. I think that Ron's and your presence at her bedside will be far more comforting than mine or Remus' or Molly's has been. If what I have assumed her home life in the Muggle world to be is correct, she takes great comfort from her friendship with you boys. It is probably what has sustained her thus far."

Harry nodded, not entirely unaware of how lonely and standoffish Hermione had been before he and Ron had accepted her as their friend and then their best friend, "Then, we won't let her down. God knows, she never lets us down."

"That is precisely the point, Harry," Sirius concurred, "that is precisely the point."


End file.
